A Time to Choose
by EG Winston
Summary: Skeeter and her best friend Race are kidnapped by Spot Conlon after visiting Skeeter's sister. Race is allowed to go home, but Spot keeps Skeeter in Brooklyn for his 'secret plan'. Will she be able to resist his charms and return to Race?  EG Winston
1. In the Beginning

**Hello! This is my first story involving Skeeter, but not my first newsies story :) Just a heads up, if you're wondering why Emma and Race don't know each other, even though Skeeter and Race grew up together, she doesn't visit Emma much and usually goes without Race. Also, I am planning to have Skeeter tell Race her real name at the end of the story, so any suggestions? Please review but don't be mean, just constructive! Happy writings!**

** ~EG Winston**

**General P.O.V.**

"You cheat! How'd youse beat me!" Kid shouted.

Skeeter just grinned, "Kid, don't get upset that you stink at poker and got beat by a goil, it ain't my fault you ain't go no poker face". Kid scowled and walked over to Bumlets and Specs.

Race smiled at her, "You always gots to push people's buttons don't youse."

"You know it, Race". Race and Skeeter split their earnings, an old habit from when they were kids.

"Heya Race? Can I ask youse somethin' now that we'se alone?" Skeeter asked, she wasn't sure how Race would take this.

"Yeah?" he replied. She sighed, "You know me sister, in Brooklyn, Emma?" Race nodded and she continued, "I haven't seen her in awhile and I was goin' to pay her a visit this afternoon. Will you come with me? Please?"

Race looked at her, Brooklyn was dangerous. Manhattan and Brooklyn were on good terms, but newsies don't travel in others territory, it just led to trouble. Especially if that trouble's name was Spot Conlon.

"I dunno, Skeets" he said, using her pet name, "Brooklyn, it ain't the nicest place these days. How bout we just play another round a' poker, maybe I'll let you win." This was a lie of course, Race and Skeeter had been taught poker by an older newsie who had left years before and no one was ever sure who would win when they played.

Skeeter shook her head, her long red hair falling out of its loose braid. "You cain Race, I'm goin' with or without youse" Race jumped up, Skeeter may be tough, but she was still a goil. If she went to Brooklyn by herself, Jack would kill him!

Race grimaced, he didn't really have a choice "Fine Skeets. Just this once I'll let you have your way"

Skeeter grinned, her white teeth shining, "I always get my way, Race" She bounced out the door and Race followed her, cursing her enticing looks and wittiness.

**Skeeter's P.O.V.**

I don't like to take advantage of Race, he's my best friend. We came to the newsies at the same time and had grown up together. We were inseparable and so alike that Specs called us the old married couple. I gave him a shiner for that but it was true.

"Heya Race, hows Sheepshead for tomorrow? I'm goin with Mickey-Day, I got a real hot tip on the 4th"

Race smiled, "No, dollface, it's gonna be Majesty, I have a feelin' about this one, he'll rub the rest in the dirt"

I hit him on the arm, "Call me Dollface again and I'll rub you in the dirt" he smiled his Italian smirk. Gosh almighty I loved his smile.

_Wait, what am I saying! This is Race here, the annoying, scrappy Italian almost brother of mine, he ain't cute! I gotta stop thinkin' like this._

We walked along, talking about which horses were goin' to make us filthy rich, richer than Pullitzer himself when Race stopped abruptly at the Brooklyn Bridge.

"Put you hair under your cap, Skeets" I looked at him, I don't like bein' bossed around. Then again, I'm usually the bossy one. He saw my face, "I just don't want you gettin…. Hoit…. Because some scabbah takes a fancy to youse"

I nodded and tucked my long red hair up. He smiled at me,

"Don't worry, your eyes are still greener than a leprachaun's hat or some other Irish crap you talks about" I laughed,

"Comin' from pasta boy or whatever else those Italians are known for, I think I'm fine, thanks" This was our ongoing joke. I was Irish, through and through and he was the most Italian kid I've ever met.

_Knock knock knock_

"Who is it?" Emma's voice cried out timidly. I winked at Race and answered in a deep male tone,

"Sergeant Muldoon, open up or I'll break it down!" I hear her panicked footsteps and the door opened up.

"Skeeter!" She cried out, realizing it was me, "You sí-diabhal [she-devil]" She cursed at me in Irish.

I grinned back at her, "Sorry, Emma, I couldn't resist!"

She threw her head back and laughed, "Come in, come in! Who is this fine young man?" she said, upon seeing Race, "Are you Skeeter's man? I always thought she needed one why when she was-"

"Emma!" I cried out, blushing furiously. Race was embarrassed too by the looks of him.

"Emma, this is my good friend, Racetrack Higgins"

"Call me Race ma'am" He said with a flourish of his cap.

Emma laughed, "Welcome, Race, to this humble adobe of mine" A wail sounded from the next room and Emma excused herself to go tend to Mary-Grace.

I looked around my sister's tiny apartment. It was actually quite nice, but it was cramped. I walked over to the kitchen and saw a picture of our family-our old family-hanging on the wall. Mam, Papa, Emma and I were all there, smiling. Like nothing in the world would ever tear us apart.

"Your sister" Race started, walking up behind me, interrupting me from my painful memories "She looks jis' like youse, Skeeter"

"She does" I agreed, "Though considering that she's older, I think it's I look jis' like her"

Race laughed.

_Knock Knock Knock_

"I'll get it!" I shouted to Emma. I opened the door and faced my sister's husband, Paul.

"Heya Kid!" He shouted, embracing me in a bear hug, "I didn't know you were visiting! I would have called the cops to arrest you!"

I laughed, Paul was a big guy. He was intimidating to those who didn't know him, but to me, he was just a large guy with a larger heart.

"Heya Paul!" I laughed, "Mind lettin' me go, I'se afraid I'se is suffocatin'"

He roared with laughter and set me down. He noticed Race, standing awkwardly in the back of their kitchen and walked towards him.

**I know, I know, an awkward place to cut off (it's 3 pages on my word doc) and it's been kind of slow so far. Never fear! I shall probably repost within a day. Also, to keep you interested, Spot will be making an appearance as well as some others. Write any characters or suggestions that you want to appear! Be back soon!**

**~EG Winston**


	2. Caught

**Hello! I told you I would repost soon! Here it is, the next installment in A Time to Choose! Enjoy and Happy Writings! FYI- This is set before the strike.**

** ~EG Winston**

**Race's P.O.V.**

Skeeter was hugging some guy, Paul I assumed from the way she was shouting his name, who was roughly the size of a small bear. He saw me and started walking towards me.

"Well, Skeets! Who is this? Got yourself a boyfriend now, did you?" Skeeter rolled her eyes, her cheeks turning crimsom against her red freckles

"Why does everyone assume that?"

"The name's Race, sir. Is youse Paul?" He nodded and shook my hand. Emma walked back in holding a bunch of clothes.

Skeeter ran up to her, "Hey, Mary-G! Can I holds her, Em? I'm always careful!" Emma nodded and handed the cooeing baby to Skeets.

Skeeter walked over to me, "Ain't she pretty, Race!"

She was cute, her red hair and freckles looked identical to Skeeters, everything did, except for the eyes. The baby's eyes were a dark brown.

Skeeter's eyes were a beautiful green, that shone when she laughed and sparkled in the moonlight. They were gorgeous and-

_What am I saying! Skeeter is like my sistah! Why am I thinking of her like this! Cut it out, Race!_

I looked outside and saw the sun settin' in the west, "Skeeter, I don't mean to cut the time short, but it's getting dark, and Brooklyn ain't safe at night"

Skeeter's eyes _darn those eyes_ grew round and she handed the baby back to Emma.

"You can stay here for the night" Paul offered,

Skeeter shook her head, "No thanks, Paul, we have to get back" she looked at me for help,

I continued "Yea, we haffta sell the morning edition and we don't want Cowboy, pardon me, our friend Jack gettin' worried."

**Skeeter's P.O.V.**

"Skeeter?" Emma called out as we were leaving, I turned around and looked back at her.

"Skeeter, I know you're a big girl. But you're also a beautiful girl" she said, shushing my cries of protest, "Listen to me, Skeeter, I just don't want to see you hurt. I don't know how to say this, but you only live with boys. I just don't want… bad things to happen to you"

I rolled my eyes, "Emma, quit worryin' they're like me bruddahs. And they know I'd soak em if they tried anything"

Emma nodded and tucked my long hair under my cap, "Be safe" she whispered. We said good bye and Race and I left.

I looked back at her one last time. She was standing in the doorframe, Paul's big arms were wrapped around her tiny frame.

_She's safe, Skeeter! Stop worryin' bout her! She's more stable with Paul, more stable than she was after Ma and Pa-_

"You're family's real nice, Skeets" Race interrupted, pulling out a cigar.

"Youse is my family, Race" I said smiling.

"Why don't you live with them, Skeets?" he asked.

I sighed.

"Emma and I lived together when we were little, just after our parents...moved on. Things were real rough. I don't want to go into it."

Race nodded in understandment, his own past was just as hard.

"She got married to Paul a coupla months later. I didn't want to be a bother. Paul's a real nice guy, but I didn't want to push my luck with living with them. So I ran. Looking back it was kind of stupid of me, but I'm glad I did, otherwise I woulda neva met you and the rest of the gang."

"What's your real name, Skeeter?"

I laughed, when I first came to the Newsboys House with Race, I had only said my name was Skeeter. I would never tell them my real name! As Emma once said, every woman has a secret, and she should guard that secret, whatever it may be, very carefully, and only impart it with the man she loves.

"I like you, Race" I jested, "But not that much" He laughed and lightly slapped my face.

"Maybe I'll tell you someday, but youse goin to hafta earn it"

We walked a little ways in silence., enjoying each others company.

The streetlife of Brooklyn wasn't much. A couple of bars were open and you got the drunks and the loose women. However, most people were smart enough to stay inside, where it was safe. Nobody wanted to get mugged or-

"Well, well, well" sang a scratchy voice, "Looks like two newsies is a long way from home. We cain't have trespassers in our territory, can we Smalls?" four boys, each bigger than the next walked out of the alley. Crap.

"No we can't, Scratch, looks like we'se need to teach these boys a lesson. I'se say wese soak 'em!" They started slowly walking towards, fear gripped at my innards but I ain't backin' down. My hat was still on, covering my long red hair so they must have assumed we were both boys.

"Skeeter, go" Race insisted, keeping his voice barely above a whisper. "You can make it back to 'Hattan if you go now!"

I could faintly hear the trace of fear in his voice. Four to two are not good odds especially if you're in Brooklyn at midnight and these boys were roughly the size of horses.

"No, Race, I ain't leavin youse"

"Skeeter" he said, his voice firmer and more scared.

"No, Race!" that was when I attacked.

These oafs obviously weren't expecting that, but after I landed a few punches on the big one, ironically named Smalls, they fought back. I was pinned on the ground and they were kicking and punching me, it hurt like heck. Race was getting the worst of it though. They punched him in the face and pinned his arms back, almost to the point of breaking.

"Let him go!" I screamed, still trying to sound like a boy. They laughed, finally they had their fill.

Or so I thought.

"Let's take 'em back to Spot. He'll soak 'em good too" They laughed and dragged us towards the docks.

I looked over at Race, he was staring at me intently and trying to mouth something at me. I couldn't see to well, my eye was starting to swell from being punched half to death. I looked at him confused, he continued staring and trying to mouth something.

His hair was mussed up, his hat must have dropped somewhere back when they mugged us.

_Don't tell you're a girl_, that's what he was saying.

We arrived at the docks and even at this late hour, the Brooklyn newsies were lounging around outside playing poker, moonlight swims, or telling stories.

We walked down slowly, the boys showing off their "prizes", us in other words.

I stared at the ground, refusing to acknowledge them and their hateful words. I finally looked up when Smalls jerked me to a stop beside a giant pile of... I'm not really sure what. Carts, boxes, a coupla lobster traps, and the random fish net.

"Heya Spot! We caught some trespassers, wese soaked 'em but we figured you might want to ask 'em why they was here or somethin'" Smalls yelled at the large pile.

Spot leaped down from his 'throne' of...stuff, and glared at us, his ice blue eyes staring into the depths of my soul (I quoted that from Dutchy, he's the aesthete (n, person who likes art and stuff. Vocab point!) of our newsies, I think he said it was from Dickens or Shakespeare or some other dead guy)

Luckily, Spot didn't recognize me, Jack always took precautions to make sure the other boroughs didn't know about me. I mean, do you seriously want Queens or Harlem to discover that Manhattan had a single girl newsie, who sold alone, who was loved by most everyone, and was extremely pretty (or so Race had said). That plan to keep me unknown and safe had worked, until tonight that is.


	3. Exposed

**Wow! Two installments in one night! Thanks for all the reviews by the way! Oh wait, there are none. Please review so I know what you're thinking! Ideas and suggestions (constructive) are welcomed! Happy Writings!**

**I would like to dedicate this to LucyOfNarnia, my wonderful Beta reader who has helped me oh so much.**

** ~EG Winston**

"Heya Race" Spot smirked.

Race grimaced, "Heya Spot"

"How ya feelin'?"

"Neva' bettah, Spot"

Spot smirked, amused at Race's sarcasm. I was starting to hate that gosh darn smirk.

He turned to me, "Who's this, Race? I ain't never seen this newsie befoah. He new? Or should I say, is she knew?"

I gasped, "How did you-"

"Relax, dollface, I been with enough goils to know one when I see one" He said, flicking my cap off with his cane.

I blushed when I realized what he was implying. My long red hair tumbled down and hung around my face. I stared at the ground, ashamed that my secret was out.

A collective gasp issued from the newsies and whispers floated around "You soaked a goil, Scratch!"

The four newsies that had soaked us looked shocked, like, turns-out-your-Pullitzer's-long-lost-son shocked.

"Now" Spot continued, "We needs to figure out what to do with youse"

I looked helplessly at Race, his brown italian eyes bore into me, begging me to not be my usual smart-aleck self.

"Ise goin to keep you, dollface. You may be useful. Race, howeva, get yoah sorry self back to 'Hattan before Ise soaks you. No hard feelins' though"

If Race hadn't looked so scared, I would have soaked 'im for calling dollface.

Race looked shocked, "I cain't leave 'er, Spot! She's my best friend!"

"Ain't that touching. Yes you can leave her, and yes you will leave her. Don't you worry, I won't do anythin' she don't want me to do. For now" he said, completely void of emotion but with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes.

"Go, Race!" I said, I didn't want to see my best friend get hurt at the hands of this monster.

He just stared at me, confusion and worry echoing in his eyes.

"Now!" I screamed.

Race looked a me, then Spot, then back at me. He walked towards me. A coupla Brooklynites went to grab at him but Spot waved them off.

"Skeeter, I-" then he kissed me, right on the lips, my very first kiss ever, and he ran back to Manhattan.

The moon was illuminating his silhouette, growing smaller in the distance as it ran to safety and I sat watching, at the entrance to H-E-double hockey sticks. This was going to be a long night.

**Really short, I know. Anywho, more soon, I'm halfway through the next chapter!**

**Happy writings!**

**~EG Winston**


	4. Prisoner

**Alright, sorry this took forever. School has been really busy and I have exams soon, so don't expect too much. This has been co-written/mostly written by a close friend who wishes to remain anonymous. I'll call her Sue. Sue has really helped me with this chapter. Happy Writings! Oh! Almost forgot, please tell me what you would like to happen, I have minor writer's block, also, I could update more regularly with short chapters or sparsely with longer chapters. You choose.**

**Also, big shout out to LucyOfNarnia, my wonderful Beta reader.**

**~EG Winston and Sue**

* * *

><p><strong>Race's P.O.V.<strong>

_Dangit, Race!_ I thought as I sprinted back to Manhattan. My feet pounded the pavement and ached.

_ You just left your best friend at the hands of Spot Conlon! The infamous womanizer who doesn't take no for an answer! And you just kissed her! What am I going to do, what am I going to do!_

I finally got off the Brooklyn Bridge and was back home.

_What is he doing to her now?_

The moon was high in the sky, it was probably around 1am.

_Is she alright?_

36th street, a couple more blocks till I reach the Newsboys Lodging House.

_She's gone, she's really gone!_

Caspian Street! I ran through the heavy doors and straight into-

"Oof! Watch where you're goin' Race!" Cowboy shouted as I ran into the Lodging House.

"Where's the fire?" laughed Bumlets.

_How can they be laughing at a time like this?_

"Jack! Spot! He took! I didn't mean to! Took her! Gone!"

"Whoah whoah Race! Who's gone!"

"Skeeter!"

Then the world went black and the last thing I saw was Skeeter's eyes as I kissed her and ran away.

**Spot's P.O.V.**

She looked at me like some animal does when it knows its trapped. I smirked, mostly because I knew it killed her. You pick up a lot of things from looking at someone's eyes, especially pretty green ones like these. Yes, she would be perfect, I just had to figure out how to break her.

"Shall we go in?" I asked, offering my arm.

She looked at me, her eyes seething with hatred.

Rolling my eyes I signaled my newsies to go back to playin' poker or whatever they were doing.

"C'mon, dollface" I grabbed her arm and dragged her into our lodging house.

"My. Name. Is. Skeeter. Don't ever call me dollface or I'll soak youse!" She shouted.

"I like 'em feisty. Dollface" I said, mostly cause I liked making her angry. She squinted those green eyes and glared at me.

"Anyway, Ise the King a Brooklyn, you couldn't soak me. Hey, youse Irish, right?"

She spat, "Yeah, why?"

"Youse got the Irish tempa, jis like me"

"Where do you want to sleep, Skeeter." I asked her, knowing full well where she would choose.

"You can sleep with me boys, in the bunkroom. Or" I said, trying to keep my voice steady,

"You can sleep with me. In my room."

"I'd rather share a room with a Delancey. I choose the bunkroom, I'm a big goil, Conlon. I can protect myself."

I was not expecting this.

**Skeeter's P.O.V.**

He grabbed my arm, the jerk grabbed my arm and reeled me around as I headed into the bunk room.

"Well to bad, Dollface. Cause I decided youse going to sleep in my room!"

"Then why did you ask me!"

He gripped my arm and dragged me to a separate room and pushed me inside.

"I'm stepping out. Youse staying here tomorrow. You leave youse soaked. You think about leavin' youse soaked. Anythin' you do Ise don't want you to do and youse is soaked."

He slammed the door, leaving me to contemplate my future.

I sat in the corner, not wanting to go near the bed. It was a nice room. There was one window with a fire escape, but I hoid about Conlon. If I stepped foot out that window, he'd kill me. There was a tiny night stand with a cracked mirror.

_Seven years of bad luck_ sang Mam's voice from inside my mind.

I looked into it, my hair was in knots and my face was covered in cuts from Smalls and his boys.

I'd like to say that I managed to sneak out or broke something. But no, I collapsed into a fit of tears. Here I was, in the heart of Brooklyn, in this arrogant, pig headed creep's bedroom, without my best friend, (who now might be something more after that kiss) not knowing what would happen to me. Life sucked.

* * *

><p>When I woke up, the sun was low in the sky, I estimated about 6:30am. I wasn't in the corner where I had finally fallen asleep last night, but on the bed. Conlon must have moved me when he came back.<p>

"I didn't touch youse, c'ept to carry youse" I heard a mocking voice.

There in the corner stood my captor.

"Ise goin' to carry the bannah. Scratch will stay here with you today. He won't hoit youse."

"What am I supposed to do all day?" I asked as I followed him into the hallway.

"Like I care" Spot smirked, "Clean, cook, what goils are good for. Besides sleepin' with, that is"

He grinned and sauntered (yes, sauntered) down the stairs.

"Jerk face, pain in the butt, no good nincompoop, I oughta, dang newsie…"

"You really shouldn't be sayin' that. If he hoid youse, well, I don't even want to think about what would happen if he heard youse"

I turned around, there stood the kid who soaked me last night, Scratch presumably. He looked better in the light. He had long black hair, brown eyes and a jagged scar running down his cheek.

I glared at him, "Like I care"

He stared down sheepishly, "Anyway, ise sorry bout last night. Had I known youse was a goil… well, I wouldn't a soaked ya"

"Shoah. You woulda left me alone or asked me on a date or sometin"

"Just wanted to 'pologize'"

"I forgive youse, the past is past and you cain't do nuttin bout it now. So, what am I supposed to do all day? Being a captive ain't too appealing. Hey! I have an idea! How bout you let me go back to Manhattan and we pretend this whole deal neva happened?"

Scratch laughed, "Yeah, shoah, and let me be killed by Spot. No tanks. Why don't you cook or clean like he said?"

I smiled at the thought of me trying to cook. "Listen Scratch, I could burn watah and as for cleaning, it'll be the end of the woild befoah Ise do dat"

Scratch laughed, this kid didn't seem so bad. _Wait, Skeeter! What the heck are you talkin' bout! Youse his captive! Then again, what bettah way to tick off Spot then get on his newsies' good side and ignore him?_

I smiled, "Why don't youse tell me about youself?"

Being a suck-up was not goin to be easy.


	5. Boredom

**Dedicated to LucyOfNarnia.**

**Shoutouts that I've neglected:**

**Rocks tar- Thank you!**

**Potlove3221- I've been busy with school but I will try to do 2 chapters a weekend, but no promises!**

**Kraken- Thanks! I will do my best with Spot, also, I think I have some ideas for names, feel free to message me if you have any ideas!**

**LucyOfNarnia- Thank you! I've made a lot of edits now!**

**destaaa246- Thank you, that means a lot!**

* * *

><p><strong>3<strong>**rd**** point of view**

"Boys, we need to talk"

Jack ran into the main room of the Manhattan Newsboys Lodging House. Kloppman was downstairs trying to revive Racetrack, who had collapsed from exhaustion. The poor kid had just sprinted from Brooklyn.

All around him, his newsies were playing poker, telling stories, talking about their goils, they were blissfully ignorant of what Jack had managed to get out of Race before he passed out. He pondered this slowly, when was the last time he had been ignorant?

"What is it Jack?" called out Mush, who was collecting his game winnings from Blink, who couldn't play poker to save his life.

_Creek!_

_We gotta get dose darned stairs fixed!_ Amazing all the things one notices in a time of panic.

Bumlets came up the stairs behind Jack, "Youse bettah tell im Cowboy, Race is still out but Klopp says he'll be fine with rest"

Jack sighed and ran his hand through his blond hair, it was no or never. It was time to shatter his newsies ignorant peace "Race just got back from Brooklyn and they, Spot, he took Skeeter. All I could gather from Race was that he took both of them but let him go for some reason"

30 pairs of eyes stared back at him, some with shock, others disbelief, but everyone with the eyes of terror. Skeeter was a mother/friend/sister to all of them.

"What?"

"Who took her!"

"Skeeter! Our Skeeter!"

"Is this some kinda joke Jacky-boi!"

"Jack!" cried a tiny voice

Jack looked down at tiny Tumbler who was insistently tugging his pant leg. His brown eyes were already started to tear up.

"Jack? Is they goin to hoit 'er?"

Skeeter always had a soft spot for Tumbler and the tiny eight year old adored her. She would tell him stories, tuck him in at night. She would protect him from the Delanceys and the 'big boys'. She was his idol.

"Jack?" he insisted, his voice cracking, on the verge of a break down.

"I don't know, kid. But I do know this! Wese goin to get 'er back!" he shouted to his boys.

Jack was awarded with chorus' and shouts of approval, the boys were going to get her back! Skeeter was their sister, no one, not even the infamous Spot Conlon can take her from them! It was at this moment that they all realized just how much Skeeter meant to them.

Then Jack bent down and said softly so only Tumbler would here, "I promise kid, I'll do everything I can to get her back"

Tumbler nodded solemnly and crawled over to Mush and sat in his lap.

"No! Jack, we can't save her!"

Skittery stood up from his chair in the back, a worried look on his face. He had never really bonded with Skeeter, but that didn't mean he didn't want to save her as much as the others. Did it?

"What do ya mean no, Skitts?" Jack whispered, his voice deadly quiet.

"I-I-I just mean that, this is Brooklyn! Think about it. If we go barging in there, Brooklyn-they fight dirty. All I'm sayin is that, is she really worth getting' on Spot's bad side?"

"Ya idiot!"

"Ya stupid, she is woith it!"

"Ow!" Skittery dodged pillows, cards, and the other random objects that were hurled at him.

Jack raised his hands and stopped the assault.

"Ya have a point Skitts" he agreed reluctantly.

"What Jack! Have you toined scab or sometin!" Kid yelled at him,

"No! Ise smart Blink. Skitts has a point."

"So wese goin to leave her dere?" Mush sided,

"No, wese goin to get her out. But it's goin to take a coupla days"

* * *

><p>Sunlight poured into the grimy bunkroom. It had been, maybe three, four hours since Spot had left? So far, Skeeter had counted 56 cracks in the ceiling, 8 windows, 44 bunks (not including Spot's) and 218 floor boards. She couldn't have been more bored.<p>

_Where's Scratch?_ _Oh right, he left to get some lunch for us. He's been gone long enough to go to Santa Fe and back _she thought grumpily. Being a captive wasn't all fun and games.

Skeeter actually enjoyed Scratch's company, for a Brooklynite anyway. He was good looking and had a sense of humor, similar to Race-

_Don't think about him, Skeeter!_

The thought of her best friend brought tears to her eyes. Tears slowly trickled down her dirty cheeks. What was the point of wiping them away? No one was here to see, no one would even care. If she had never seen Emma, never been captured, where would I be right know? She thought, her heart breaking at the thought of her friends continuing life without her.

Probably sellin' papes, or eatin' at Tibby's.

_Shoot! I'm missing Meatloaf Monday, Tibby has the best meatloaf!_

_Is that seriously what you're thinking of right now, Skeeter? How you're missing Tibby's meatloaf? Are you that weird?_

_Meatloaf…that sounds good right now. I sure am hungry..._

_Honestly Skeeter! Grow up! Where's the tough newsie that I know!_

Boredom can really drive a person mad.


	6. The Deal

**Hello! Sorry this has taken so long, I've been busy with exams, school, and whatnot. Anywho, here is chapter six with our beloved Skeeter and co.**

**rellimmes: Thanks!**

**LucyOfNarnia: What would I do without you?**

**destaaa246: Thanks for reading and keep those reviews coming, I love to hear what you think!**

**JE Magic: Thank you for all your messages! It means a lot!**

**This chapter is dedicated to JE Magic!**

* * *

><p><strong>Skeeter's P.O.V<strong>

"Hey Skeeter! I didn't know if you wanted beef or pork in your sandwich so I…Skeeter? Skeeter, come on, I hate hide and seek. Skeeter! Crap…crap crap crap crap! Skeeter! Where are you this isn't a joke!"

I held a hand over my mouth to stifle my giggles. I mean honestly, I'm hiding behind the doorframe, turn around! Wait, don't turn around, because then I'll be caught and I'll have to stay in this heck-hole.

I shifted my position as quietly as I could so Scratch wouldn't hear me. I feel kind of bad for him, but my freedom is the top priority at the moment.

"Skeeter! Please, come out!" Scratch cried out, crawling on the floor and looking under bunks.

He stood up, finally, and ran a hand through his shaggy hair.

"I gotta find her, Spot will kill me."

He talks to himself. Interesting.

He ran out of the room and my plan was put into action.

I creeped to the top of the stairs and was just in time to see my new best friend running out the lodging house door. And guess who forgot to lock said door?

You have three guesses and two of 'em don't count.

After painfully counting to a ridiculously high number, 10, I slowly inched my way down the wooden stairs, wincing at each squeak.

Praise the Lord that by some miracle, no one was in the Lodging House to see my excellent escape plan.

There! Right ahead was the Gateway to Heaven, hypothetically, it was actually just to my freedom.

I grasped the rusty doorknob and slowly opened the door. Seeing the docks were deserted, I sprinted, running as fast as I could away from my prison.

* * *

><p>"There he is! We got your back, Cowboy" Mush gave a reassuring pat on the back and Jack headed towards Spot.<p>

The boys had agreed that their first course of action should be to ask Spot about Skeeter and why he abducted her. No harm in that, right?

As soon as Mush, Jack, and Race (still woozy from his fainting episode) crossed the bridge, they could tell they were being trailed by Spot's boidies. The boidies had increased the further they got into Spot's territory. First two, four, eventually six tiny boys were following them. They were on the roofs, shadows, alleys, always following, always watching. A good boidie can mean the difference between another borough attacking you and announcing guests. Spot, had the best boidies around.

Mush didn't like the boidies, he hated being watched. He kept glancing around, glaring at them until Jack finally told him to stop.

After thirty minutes, they had finally reached the main square, Spot's selling spot.

Jack wandered over to Spot, who was flirting with two high society girls trying to get them to buy his papes.

They were giggling stupidly and hiding behind their lace fans. One of those fans cost about as much as a years rent for the newsies.

"Well, if it ain't Jack be nimble, Jack be quick. What brings you to Brooklyn, Cowboy?" Spot finally acknowledged Jack after the girls had left, blowing kisses at the King.

"It's a beautiful day, Spot." Jack murmured, looking anywhere but Spot's piercing blue eyes. Spot had a way of looking at someone like he were looking through their soul.

"That it is Cowboy. Now stop messing around. What the heck are you doing in my territory? Did you…lose something?" he smirked knowingly.

Jack sighed, "Actually Spot, I did. A girl about yay high. She's one of my newsies. She's family, Spot. Why'd you take 'er and can I have her back?"

Spot laughed and started walking down the street. Jack, though much bigger than the lanky boy, had to jog to keep up.

"I can't tell youse Cowboy, but I need 'er"

"Why, Spot!"

Spot stopped suddenly and Jack nearly fell down, trying not to run into him.

"Not many boroughs have goil newsies, Cowboy. In fact, youse is the only one. Goils is considered weak. Poisonally, I agree, but there's always a handful of goils that prove useful. Very useful."

He trailed off and continued walking down the streets. Vendors would eye him cautiously and small boys would look at him in awe. This was the King's territory, he owned it and everything and everyone in it.

"I'll make you a deal, Cowboy. Now Ise bein' fairly generous here. I'll let you and yer friends visit 'er, but then I get to keep her, no questions asked, for a month. She's mine. And if she runs away, it's yer word of honor, I'll blacken yer name so no borough will have anything ta do wit youse. Understood?"

"I-I- what?."

Spot rolled his eyes, "I promise on my woid of honor I won't hoit 'er or nuttin"

"I can't Spot! What will I tell my boys! She's like me sister, I can't leave 'er wid youse, you have a reputation Spot. She doesn't. I'd like to keep it that way."

"I already told youse I won't touch 'er! I have 'er now, Cowboy. Either way, I have her. You can see her and get her back soon or you can play hero and I'll still have her!" he said softly, dangerously.

Jack looked helplessly at the sky and wondered what his life would be like once he reached Santa Fe. If he ever did.

"Fine, Spot. But if I heah youse hoit her, I will personally tear every limb from yer body meself"

Spot laughed

"I'd like to see you try Cowboy, but do we have a deal?"

Jack pondered about it for a minute.

"deal"

They spit into each others hands and Jack waited for Spot to make the next move.

Hearing running footsteps, Spot turned around just in time to see Scratch dive behind some apple crates.

* * *

><p><strong>Scratch's Point of View<strong>

Shoot! Did he see me?

"Heyo Scratch! Get ova heah!"

Yep, he did. Well, goodbye cruel world! It's been nice while it lasted!

I stood up nervously and brushed the never ending dirt off my pants.

I saw two of Manhattan's newsies coming up behind Cowboy and Spot and Jack turned around and began chatting with them.

The short Italian one kept glancing my way, givin' me the evil eye.

He was probably the one I soaked last night.

I plastered a large, cheesy grin on my face and walked over to Spot. I tried to calm down my heartbeat, some of the older newsies say he can smell your fear, like a werewolf or some otha horror story we tell to scare the little kids.

"Spot, can I talk wit youse in private?"

He squinted his eyes at me and grabbed my arm, twisting it close to the point of breakage.

"Shoah, pal. Jacky boy wait ova dere, I gots sometink to settle wit my boy"

He shoved my into the alley, placing his arm at my throat he quietly asked me,

"Weren't youse supposed to be watchin our little prisoner?"

"I-" I gasped, struggling for air.

"And isn't she supposed to be guarded? At all times? Cause that's what I told you, you must have disobeyed. I don't like people disobeying me, Scratch. Cause then I get angry, do you know what happens when I get angry?"

**General Point of View**

Scratch stammered out something between a squeak and a yelp,

"That's just the thing, boss! I went to get 'er some lunch and when I get back"

he gulped, his oxygen was running out fast.

"She was-um... shewasgoneandidon'tknowwheresheis!"

Cocking his head, Spot pulled out his can and held onto it threateningly,

"What?"

Now shaking with fear, Scratch closed his eyes and tried to imagine a happy place,

"She was gone, and I don't know where she is!"

Spot closed his eyes and grimaced. He released the choking boy. Scratch fell to the ground, inhaling sweet air, tinged of course, with the putrid smell of horse doo, smoke, and sweat.

"Get the boidies. The best one, and get Shadow too. You find her and you find her befoah dark. Guard the bridge and all entrances to 'Hattan. I'll deal wit youse later"

Walking off, Scratch breathed a sigh of relief. He was safe, for now.

* * *

><p>"Cowboy! Change a plans. Get outta my territory. You'll see 'er later in two days. Got it?"<p>

Jack, Mush, and Race stared at the King, their eyes wide with confusion.

"Go or I'll soak youse lousy bums!"

Mush and Jack nodded and started to head out, knowing that the King was in a lethal mood. Race, however, stood his ground.

"I want to see her. Now."

"Get outta heah Race"

"I want to see her!"

Spot glared at Mush and Jack and they grabbed Race and started towards the bridge. Spot watched them until they were out of sight. With an angry sigh, he walked towards The Leaky Ship to get some drinks to calm him down before he killed someone.

* * *

><p>"Youse a coward! Why'd you leave 'er!"<p>

Mush and Jack were dragging the kicking and screaming Race down the bridge, collecting many odd stares from passerbys.

"Race! Stop it!"

He continued screaming like a demented banshee and kicking like a wounded goat.

Jack slapped Race.

"Listen, Race, listen to me!"

Race reluctantly looked up at Jack.

"You don't know Spot, not in that mood anyway, he's dangerous. I don't know what his newsie told him, but it wasn't good. If we made him madder, well, I just don't want him to take it out on Skeeter. I was doing it fer her."

Race nodded, still peeved that they had to leave her, but she was safer, hopefully.

"And I ain't no coward" Jack mumbled.

The trio then marched, with heavy hearts, back to Manhattan with the sun quickly setting behind them.

* * *

><p><strong>There you go! Hope you liked it! Reviews, comments, suggestions, and witty humor is welcomed. <strong>

**What would you like to see?**

**1) Why does Spot want with Skeeter?**

**2) Characters you want to appear (from the movie or made up)**

**3) Skeeter's real name**

**4) What should happen?**

**If your ideas are good enough, I will welcome them into A Time to Choose. Happy Writings and stay tuned!**


	7. Caught, Again

**So sorry this has taken so long! My musical just ended (it was fantastic). But I'm on break now, so expect many updates! I WILL NOT ABANDON THIS STORY!**

**Dedicated to Kate Shindle, one of the most amazing voices I've ever heard. You're ranked with Laura Osnes.**

**Disclaimer: Get over yourselves, I don't own Newsies. I do own Skeeter, the plot, and anything else not in the movie or the novel.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Spot grumbled to himself as he walked into the shady bar. Though young, he was still feared by the suspicious characters who occupied it.<p>

"Gimme sometink strong, Tom" Spot ordered the aging bar keeper.

The old man scuttled away, giving Spot time to survey his surroundings, it was an old habit.

Tom quickly returned with Spot's order and returned to polishing a glass that was already clean.

Slowly chugging the sour liquid, Spot wondered what had driven him to capture the beautiful, lively girl.

_Why did you do it, Spot? What drove you to it?_

He had just taken over Brooklyn from Butcher the Bull less than two years ago. Was it because he was eager to prove to the other boroughs that he was strong?

That size didn't matter?

Or was it because he was infatuated by the spirited redhead?

_It don't matter! She ran away, she ain't your responsibility!_

He tried to console himself with another round of drinks, but a nagging voice kept whispering in the back of his head.

_What if she gets hurt? How would you live with yerself? She's yer property now. Keep her, she's yours._

Spot sighed, he would have to find her, or this stupid voice might make a habit of appearing.

He ambled out of the door to find his captive, with his conscience still ringing loudly in his mind.

* * *

><p><em>Keep running, keep running<em>

It had been nearly three hours since Skeeter took off running.

She had tried to run for the Bridge, but before long she had gotten lost. So lost in fact, that she was positive she was in the bad part of Brooklyn. If you didn't count all of Brooklyn as bad that is.

_Why didn't you just try and go back to Paul and Emma's? Because you were to busy running to think._

"Hey doll! Where are you goin' late at night! Don't you know baad people are out now?" a drunken man reeled at her but she didn't stop, not now, not ever.

That is, until she ran straight into someone.

"Well, what do we have here? A lost little girl? Or should I say, an escaped newsie? Was I that bad, Skeets?"

_Crap, of all the people in this forsaken borough, I run into Spot. Great, this has been the absolute best freaking day of my entire freaking life._

Due to Skeeter's amazing public speaking skills, her flawless grace, and her ability to always have something clever on the tip of her tongue, she replied,

"I-uh-I-I"

He grinned at her, his whitened teeth stretched in a menacing grin,

"Speechless, baby? I missed you too"

Skeeter sighed and ran a hand through her hair,

"Look Conlon, it's not you, it's me. Ok, that's a lie. It is you. You can't get a goil by locking her in your forsaken room, in this forsaken borough, with a forsaken prison guard!"

She was screaming by now, it was just too much. First getting caught, then Race's kiss, then escaping, then getting caught again!

Spot growled something inaudible and grabbed her arm, dragging her back to her prison.

Was it Skeeter's imagination? Or did he sound remorseful?

* * *

><p>The moon was high in the sky and illuminated the city, at least from the tiny window in Spot's room it did.<p>

Spot walked in with two mugs and handed it to Skeeter.

She put it on the floor, refusing to drink anything from this boy.

_You know, a hunger strike might not be a bad idea!_

"Ain't youse goin' to drink it?" he asked, irritated after he had gone to all the trouble of walking downstairs and ordering one of the smaller boys to make some cider for Skeeter and him.

She glared at him, her green eyes filled with unspoken rage.

She was like a bird, one o' those tropic ones, that isn't meant to be caged up.

But she was property now, that wasn't his problem.

"I guess not then. Your welcome by the way"

"Why did you take me?" her eyes were closed, like she was holding back tears.

This shouldn't be too hard to answer, right? Wrong.

Spot walked over to the bed and sat down, taking his time to get comfortable and arrange his thoughts.

Skeeter settled miserably in the corner, wary of Spot's reputation with girls.

"C'mon! I promise I won't touch youse, but if you don't get ovah heah I ain't goin' to tell youse why I took you!"

Skeeter stood up and brushed a strand of bright red hair out of her face. She slowly walked over to the bed and sat as far away from him as possible.

"Why did you take me, Spot?"

"I was fourteen when I took over Brooklyn..."

* * *

><p><strong>I'm so evil to keep you hanging! Don't worry, I'll update again tomorrow with why he took her. <strong>

**Ideas for why he took her still open!**

**Reviews on what you think would be nice, too.**

**Sorry about this chapter, I know it is slow, but it's a transition to the real action, also, majority ruled she should try to escape. And she did.**


	8. Trouble

**WOW! I'm on a roll! So many chapters in so little days! Keep those reviews coming!**

**Dedicated to Jeremy Jordan, we'll get married someday.**

* * *

><p><span>In Manhattan:<span>

"Do you think we can visit her?"

It was late at night, Tumbler and Tinker, the two youngest boys, were whispering to each other in the bunk they shared. Being the youngest, they had been "adopted" by Skeeter and regarded her as the mother they never had.

"I dunno Tum, ain't Brooklyn far!"

They stopped talking quickly as Race, above them, grunted, tormented by nightmares that Skeeter was hurt, dead, or worse.

When Race had finally stopped tossing, the boys resumed their conversation.

"C'mon Tink, let's go! Instead o' sellin' papes tamarah, we'll go visit her! We'll bring her flowers and her favorite slinging shot!"

Tinker looked doubtfully at his friend, but his love for Skeeter won over his fear of getting caught by Cowboy.

"Ok, Tum, we'll go tomorrow. 'Member, we can't tell no one! Else Cowboy might get mad and yell at us like the time he did when he caught us making papah people"

The boys shuddered, remembering that time. Cowboy kept yelling about them wasting merchandise and they had kept crying. Finally, Skeeter had come to their rescue. She was like an angel, standing up to Scary Jack then. She had pushed him and told him to stop threatening them. Then she had hugged them and told them everything would be alright. No one had ever stood up to Jack before that.

The boys made a solemn oath to tell no one and they drifted off to sleep, dreaming of tomorrow when they would see their beloved 'Mama'.

* * *

><p>It was near two in the morning by the time Spot had finished telling his story and had fallen asleep, but Skeeter was still wide awake, trying to process what she had just learned from the "egotistical jerk".<p>

Curled up in the corner, Skeeter still refused to sleep near Spot. She glanced up out the window, trying to organize her thoughts neatly, but she couldn't think straight.

_So that's why he did it. But, it doesn't make any sense. No sense at all!_

He said he had taken over Brooklyn from the Butcher two years ago, Skeeter remembered Butcher.

He was a big burly kid who had rightfully earned his name by killing anyone who stood in his way. She was only thirteen when he had "disappeared" and Spot had taken over.

Spot was still "new" according to the other boroughs, he was tough alright, but he was still new. Apparently, he *didn't know why he took Skeeter* but if it would show the other boroughs that Spot Conlon meant business, then he was all for it.

He added that she was a pretty little thing, something *good* to show off at parties. Skeeter slapped him, the slimy piece of vermin.

On an endnote, Spot said he has now planned to make her a boidie (no one suspected a goil was spying on them), a house keeper (he still didn't listen when she argued that she had burnt water) and keep her in Brooklyn.

Forever.

_This can't be happening._

* * *

><p>"Hey Mush!" Jack called out to the handsome newsie.<p>

The boys were at the distribution center, everyone had just finished buyin' their papes and were heading off to sell.

Mush reluctantly bade goodbye to the pretty goil he was talking to and faced his leader.

"C'mon, Jacky! I was makin' a move! I almost got her to go to Medda's wit me!"

"Later Mush, you know you'll just get anudder one"

Mush nodded truthfully and Jack continued,

"I want youse to sell wid Tumbler and Tinker, today. They didn't buy many papes and they looked suspicus…sispicio…susupiciousis…guilty."

"Cowboy! I don't have no time to babysit!"

"Make time, Mush. Now go find 'em!"

Mush grumbled and walked away to find the two little boys he was supposed to watch.

* * *

><p>Skeeter had woken up at the crack of dawn, determined to get up before Spot. She noted the gathering clouds in the sky, a telltale sign of a storm, and found her way down to the kitchen.<p>

_Spot wants a cook, I'll show him a cook_

In the cupboards, she found two bread rolls, some cheese, and three dozen eggs.

Taking care to set one egg aside, Skeeter did her best to boil the rest.

When they looked safe enough to eat, Skeeter arranged the bread, cheese, and eggs (still in their shells) on the plates.

When the boys, groggy and irritated as boys typically are that time of day, they gratefully accepted Skeeter's cooking.

"Tanks, missus!" cried one little boy with gap teeth.

Skeeter smiled at him, he reminded her of her own dear "children" back in Manhattan. The older boys blushed and murmured how grateful they were.

Only a few had the guts to flirt with her, but they were quickly silenced once Spot came down. Smiling to herself, Skeeter gave him his breakfast, set aside from the others.

"Tanks, doll" he shouted to her, doing his best to embarrass her in front of his newsies.

"See fellas, dere ain't no goil who can resist my charms. It's the same wid all women, dese weak when it comes to charms" Spot boasted to his friends.

Skeeter edged closer to him, trying to keep her anger at the boy under control.

Spot smiled at her and took the bread and the cheese and tried to shell the egg. But it wasn't the cooked egg, it was raw. And it splattered all over the King of Brooklyn's nicest shirt and pants.

Roaring with rage, Spot clenched his fists and advanced upon Skeeter.

"You little, I'll-"

"You said you wanted me to cook, Spot, so I cooked. And not all goils are weak when it comes to your so called charms!" Skeeter ran back into the kitchen while the newsies nervously laughed and eyes Spot, careful not to be on the receiving end of his rage.

Spot glared at her receeding form, vowing to find her weak spot and get revenge.

Those newsies who knew him well saw his ice blue eyes contract, forming a plan to make Skeeter pay.

* * *

><p>"C'mon Tink! Wese lost him!"<p>

Tumbler and Tinker had waited hours for Mush to get distracted by a pretty goil so they could escape.

Being so young, they couldn't understand why the boys liked them. Besides, Skeeter, they were all prissy and had cooties. Yuck.

The two boys threw down their papes and raced across the Brooklyn Bridge and into the other territory. Little did they know, they were being watched and followed by some very territorial boidies with orders from a very angry leader.

* * *

><p>"Hey Tum?" Tink whispered, they were in one of Brooklyn's many alleys and were very very lost after a couple hours of aimless wondering with a purpose.<p>

"Yeah Tink?" Tumbler whispered back.

"Wheres are we?"

Two ice cold hands snatched the back of the boys' shirts and held them in the air,

"You're in Brooklyn boys, trespassing in the wrong territory!"

The sound of their screams echoed in the labyrinth of alleys and streets, but no one could help them now.

* * *

><p><strong>Oooohhhh! Cliff hanger! I noticed a lot of reviews said the last chapter wasn't what y'all were expecting, hopefully this one isn't either! I don't want to be too predictable! Anyway, review review. <strong>

**Plot Call!**

**Anyone with a good idea for a plot line, twist, I don't really know, feel free to message me!**

**The next installment should be published within the next week, hang tights!**

***To all you who didn't believe in me, I won't give up on this story! Promise!**


	9. Rats and Guests

**Hello! Sorry to have taken so long, I'm on three sports teams (AHHH!) so I officially don't have a life :) Here is the latest installment of A Time To Choose!**

**Also, Happy Newsies Day! (April 10) The Broadway Newsies cast recording comes out 4/10 (Can't wait!) Please, if you have any ideas on what I should do with this story, where you would like it to go, you recommend, I'll do it (if I like it) Dedicated to Garett Hawe- you are too cool for school my friend. Too cool.**

* * *

><p>(In Brooklyn)<p>

Rat stood up from the table and shook his sweaty hand with Spot's. He scurried out of the room to return with the two 'prizes' he had just traded to Spot Conlon aka The King of Brooklyn.

Spot quickly brushed off his hand, trying to rid himself of the Rat's sweat. Spot hated dealing with the loathsome boy, but if it meant teaching Skeeter her place, he was more than willing to do what he had to do.

He looked outside the kitchen window onto the docks that his newsies called home, Skeeter was still sitting on the farthest edge, thinking. She had ran outside just after breakfast and had remained there for the rest of the day.

Rat quickly returned and shoved forward two crying boys. They were small, remarked Spot, smaller than most newsies, they had to be around seven or so. The blonde haired one was shivering and was clutching the other one's hand. Spot grimaced inwardly on what the Rat must have done with them until now, he was a bully, The Rat. A miserable, no good bully who picked on others weaker than he for no apparent reason. (Spot was a completely different type of bully, he picked on those who upset him or he could gain something from them. Anyway, in the cutthroat world of orphaned city children, there are no rules)

Spot grinned at the two boys,

"How are ya, boys?"

The dark haired boy looked up and brushed his long hair out of his eyes,

"Where's Skeeter!"

"Ya!" The other one piped up, "Where's our Mama!"

Spot smiled inwardly,

"Shutup kid, you'll see her soon"

He beckoned to one of his newsies who quickly escorted the two boys out of the room.

"Thanks, Rat" Spot said.

He took out his pocket knife and started cleaning his nails. About a minute later he looked up to find the lean blonde haired boy still there,

Spot sighed, "What?"

The Rat looked around with his gray, beady eyes, as if he were sizing up everything in the bare kitchen,

"The price, Conlon"

Spot pushed his hat back on his head,

"Oh yes, the price. My boys won't beat on youse or nufink for two months. Now get your slimy self outta my lodgin' house"

The Rat cringed, "But you said a year, Conlon!"

"And I could instantly revoke my offer to a week, get outta here, Rat"

The pale boy looked around and then ran out the door and into the endless city, leaving the King to his musing.

* * *

><p>Skeeter trudged up the creaky wooden stairs just after the setting sun had slipped from her view and into the Atlantic Ocean.<p>

It had been a very long day of doing absolutely nothing.

After her little "trick" on Spot, she had spent the whole day avoiding him.

Though brave as she was, she was still smart. She knew that Conlon would try to get his revenge. But how and when, Skeeter didn't know.

She had spent most of the day on the dock, wary of the boidies that Spot had guarding her every move. Most of the time was spent deciding the best way on how to escape and get back to Manhattan. Back to Race.

She also wondered why Jack hadn't tried to rescue her yet.

She assumed that Jack would try and storm the Brooklyn Lodging House or something, but nothing had happened as of yet.

Skeeter grasped the brass door knob that led to Conlon's room (she was still clueless on another place to sleep)

And was greeted with the sight of her two youngest friends. Tinker and Tumbler were sitting on the floor gazing up at her with wide, frightened eyes.

"What the-"

Spot removed himself from behind the door frame,

"Skeeter! So nice of you to join us, I invited some of your friends over because I didn't want you to miss Manhattan too much"

Skeeter glared at him and ran quickly to Tumbler and Tinker.

"Are you two alright!"

Tinker nodded slowly while Tumbler looked at Spot warily,

"We're fine, Mama." Tinker mumbled

"Yeah!" Tumbler added, "I wasn't scared at all! I'm a big kid, just like Jack! I ain't scared a nufink!"

Skeeter smiled at the two boys, glad that her friends were safe, but then...

"How did you get here?" She stopped and then looked over at Spot, her eyes cold with fury.

"I don't suppose you two just decided to pay me a visit"

Spot motioned the two boys to talk, ignoring Skeeter's hate filled glance,

"Actually… We kinda did. Wese was tryin' to find youse cuz Jack said youse weren't comin' back for a liddle whilse. We wanted to bring youse back ourselves! We'd be heroes!" Tumbler grinned happily,

"And wese wanted to bring youse dis, Skeeta!" Tinker reached into his pockets and proudly pulled out Skeeter's sling shot.

Skeeter kissed both the boys on the cheek and lovingly held her sling shot, a gift from Emma last Christmas.

"That's real touchin, honest, but Ise gotta talk to Skeeter poisanally. Smalls!" Spot yelled for his trusted second in command,

The mammoth sized boy lumbered into the room,

"Take 'im"

Smalls grasped the two boys and carried them over his shoulders and slammed the door all before Skeeter could stop him.

"Wait! Spot, what are you-"

"Come wid me" he ordered.

* * *

><p><strong>Alright, hopefully I'll be better at reposting. Any ideas, comments, suggestions, jokes, just want to say hi,<strong>

**comment and I'll get back to you ASAP.**

**Please check out some of my other stories, and remember, headlines don't sell papes, newsies sell papes!**


	10. Stars Look Down

**Here it is! The next chapter of A Time To Choose. Thank you to everyone who reads this, for I would not be motivated to write if it wasn't for you! Thanks to Jeremy Jordan, my wonderful fictional husband for hypothetically supporting me in my writing, and to all the fansies out there! Quick warning, I'm on four softball teams right now so my updates might come out later, luckily for you, I'm in a great mood so I wrote 2 whole chapters! Go me!**

**Challenge: Some words are part of a Newsie song (Broadway version) whoever guesses (tell me by reviewing) first gets... something. I dunno, a character, a chapter, something. They can choose.**

**Dedicated to anyone who reviews, messages me for advice, beta reading, or just wants to say hi! (hint hint)**

* * *

><p>Skeeter reluctantly followed Spot, it wasn't like she had a choice or anything. Choices, hah, that's just silly.<p>

Spot led her to a window and ordered her to climb up onto the roof, she did it blindly, she was still concerned about Tumbler and Tinker. What had Spot done with them?

The sky was dark, the sun had set already and the stars were just starting to come out and starting to paint the sky with their beauty.

"Spot?" she started to ask, confused at why he had brought her here.

"Shhh" he said. He led her over to the middle of the roof and he sat down and stared up at the sky.

Looking around for a bit, Skeeter sighed and reluctantly sat down next to him.

She looked up at the sky and reflected about life.

The sky was so mysterious, the stars up there looked down upon her and saw her past, her future, and most important, her present. Never had Skeeter felt such a realization, that in this great wide world, she was so small and insignificant.

She stared up at the sky and wondered, how was it that in Manhattan, which felt like a lifetime away, her friends could be looking at the same sky? The same stars, with the same thoughts. Wondering where she was, and whether she was alright.

Little did she know, Race was on the Manhattan roof too, looking up at the stars and thinking those very things.

Both were looking at the same stars, the same sky, but they were millions of miles away from each other.

"Them streets down there," Spot mused softly, rousing Skeeter from her thoughts,

"They suck the life outta youse. They did it to me old man, but they ain't doin it to me" his voice was soft and had lost the usual huskiness and fierceness that he usually used.

Skeeter nodded, she understood what he meant. She had seen too many men, too many women, and far too many children, fall victim to the souless streets.

"But up on this roof here, I can sees forevah. The streets, the ocean, heck, I can probably see Pulitzer's living room! The stars up there, they help me understand. Up heah I can be myself"

The stars twinkled, winking at the confused world below them.

He looked at her, his blue eyes staring into her soul, searching her as the stars searched him.

Skeeter looked away, intimidated by the intimacy that was going on between them.

"What do ya want, Conlon? Youse already took everytink from me. My home, my friends, heck, you even took Tinker and Tumbler."

"Youse don't understand, Skeeter." He whispered softly.

Skeeter lept up onto her feet. She glared at him, looking up into those stupid stars. She pointed a shaking finger at her heartless captor,

"Youse right!" she screamed, days of built up anger finally released in a hailstorm of fury, "I don't understand! Youse wants me to stay heah forevah! Why! And don't give me that stupid housemaid crap! I want to go home, Conlon, home! To Jack, to Mush, to Kloppman, to Blink-"

"To Race" he murmured softly.

Skeeter shook her head, pretending she hadn't heard him,

"I want to go home!" She sat down and buried her face in her hands, silent tears running their course down her cheeks.

"Then go home, Skeeter" Spot said.

Skeeter looked up, thinking she had misheard him, after all this, he was just letting her go?

"I already told Smalls to take the two kids, Tumbler and Tinker?, back to Manhattan. Go home, Skeeter, if it makes you happy."

He walked over to the fire escape and climbed down slowly,

"I want you to be happy Skeeter, I love youse" the wind carried his voice away and Skeeter never heard him.

A million miles away an Italian boy smoked a cigar and thought about a girl, wondering if she was truly gone forever.

And the stars looked down on them all.


	11. Home is Where the Newsies Are

**Literally sobbing as I wrote the last chapter. Guess what! I got a twitter! I've also learned that I'm more technically challenged than I thought (What are you doing E.G? I'm twitting on Tweeter! *sighs*). Anywho, I'm also going to see Newsies again! AHH! Well, after I review this, I'm having ice cream, you're so jealous :) Here it is, the next installment of A Time To Choose!**

**Dedicated to Ryan Steele, the second cutest newsie after my husband. Your smile could be sold as a cure all :)**

* * *

><p>Gathering her wits about her, Skeeter opened the door to the Lodging House.<p>

"Boys?" she called out.

She didn't have time to wait for a reaction though, as she was viciously attacked by an angry bear!

Just kidding, she was tackled and hugged by roughly fifteen large newsies, kind of the same experience though, you know? Cause we've all been through this...

"Skeeter youse back!"

"Skeets!"

"Youse escaped!"

"That's our goil!"

"We'se missed youse!"

Shouts and cheers of happiness and threats of revenge against Spot were echoing up and down the halls of the Manhattan Newsboys Lodging House until one call rang out,

"Mama!"

Skeeter tore herself away from Blink who was sobbing and hugging her like a mother reunited with a long lost child (he can get kind of emotional) and ran over to Tumbler and Tinker,

"Are you two alright!" She hugged them before they could answer, squeezing them so hard they couldn't breathe.

"They're fine Skeeter, I took care of dem"

Skeeter looked up at the speaker and into the dark brown eyes of Race, she stared at him, drinking him in. His eyes were brimming with tears and his mouth was stretched into a broad, jocund smile,

"Skeeter, I-"

"Race!" She jumped up and hugged him, knocking the words right out of his mouth,

"I missed you so much" she sobbed,

"Me too" he whispered into her ear.

"Skeeter" a large hand was placed on her shoulder and she turned around and faced Jack with a stupid grin on his face.

"Welcome back, kid"

Skeeter grinned up at him,

"I missed youse Cowboy. Though I didn't have to hear anyone talk about Santa Fe nonstop. But Conlon was even more annoying than youse was, and that's hard to beat" she trailed off happily, unaware of her mistake.

At the mention of the name Conlon, the festive mood suddenly sombered and was replaced by anger and thoughts of revenge.

Jack frowned and Race tightened his grip on Skeeter's hand, which she hadn't even realized he was holding.

"Wese goin to make him pay, Skeeter. I promise, he'll wish he's nevah been born!"

Now that Skeeter was back, the boys had lost all cautiousness they had felt earlier. They would unite the other boroughs and start a full fledged war and wipe Brooklyn off the map of their fair city!

Skeeter looked up into their hate filled determined eyes.

Something was wrong.

While she had first felt joy, there was a black pit in her stomach. Then it hit her with the force of a train, she didn't want Spot to get hurt.

_Skeeter, he kidnapped youse! He took youse away from everything!_

_But he let me go. And I forgive him. At least, I think I do..._

"Jack, I- Jack!" she shouted, trying to get his attention.

He looked at her,

"Jack, I don't wants to do dat"

"What? But why?" he asked, confused,

"Skeeter, he took you away from us!" Race told her,

"And he took me, but I wasn't scared, I was just like Cowboy!" yelled Tumbler from the back of the room, quickly shushed by Tinker.

"Youse just tired, Skeeter. C'mon, youse go to sleep and tink tings ovah, ok?"

"Yeah, sure" Skeeter nodded.

"Youse won't do anytink witout tellin' me?" she asked him

He shook his head but his eyes said different.

It was too much, it was all too much.

With those final thoughts, she slipped into darkness and back into Race's arms.

* * *

><p>In her unconscious state, Skeeter's mind replayed how she had left Brooklyn.<p>

She had spent the rest of the night after Spot left staring up at the stars, wondering if what he had said was true.

When the first rays of a new day had peeked over the horizon, Skeeter had made her decision. She had silently slipped back into the Lodging House and was making her way out the front door when something stopped her.

Bacon.

The crisp, sweet smell of bacon.

She inched her way close to the kitchen door, her haven the past couple days, and peeked inside.

There, before her, was the infamous Spot Conlon, cooking bacon.

It was in that moment something changed.

Skeeter didn't know what, but something did. Just seeing him there, cooking bacon for his newsies to eat, sparked something inside of Skeeter.

And like a wildfire it spread through her body, from her toes, up to her legs, her whole body was on fire.

All because of bacon.

Before her heart could tell her no, Skeeter ran out of the door and away from Spot cooking that blasted bacon.

How dare he do this to her! It had to have been his idea, make her fall in love with her so she would stay! The jerk! The scab!

_Wait, bacon? How could he have thought up something like that? How would he know that just by doing something as stupid as cooking bacon that I would fall in love with him?_

_Fall in love with him?_

Those five words haunted her all the way back to Manhattan.

And now, in her slumber, Skeeter could still smell the bacon.

* * *

><p><strong>Ooohhh! Love triangle! Who should Skeeter choose, what should happen? You review, youI decide!**


	12. Dreams

**Hello everyone! Sorry it's been so long, things have come up that you probably don't care to know, you just want to read the story! Bit of writer's block so I just drilled these two out. Hope you enjoy! **

* * *

><p>While she slept, memories came to Skeeter. Of her past, of her present, and what could be the foreseeable future.<p>

Images came and went, sometimes quicker than she could comprehend, but sometimes slower than she could bare.

* * *

><p>"Emma, Emma, where is Mam and Papa! Emma where are they!"<p>

She was looking up at Emma, her soft hair hanging around her haggard face. She was squeezing the four year old Skeeter, silently begging her not to look.

Red. Her vision was red and splattered.

"They've gone, my ceann beag [little one], they've gone on a trip to a beautiful place and they can't come back" Emma sobbed,

"Why Emma! Why!" she couldn't understand why her beautiful Mam and strong Papa would just leave her like this

Emma weaved her slim fingers through Skeeter's hair like their mother always does… did.

Skeeter was pulled through a black swirl and moved on to the next vision, away from the crying four year old her and the sobbing Emma.

* * *

><p>"Run, kid! Run!"<p>

She didn't want to leave Hash behind, but she had to look after herself.

Skeeter turned away from the refuge and ran. Her barefeet slapped the pavement but she wouldn't, couldn't stop. She had to get away.

Away from the Refuge, away from the Warden, away from it.

She ran until she could no longer hear the whistles and shouts from the bulls and only when she finally realized how tired she was, did she stop.

She leaned against a brick building and closed her eyes, desperately trying to fill her lungs with air.

"Da bulls?"

Skeeter snapped her eyes open and looked up at the voice.

He was tall and very muscular. His brown-black hair swept over his dark eyes and he smiled as she nodded.

"Don't worry, dere gone. Youse safe now. Why don't youse stay here for a while? Be a newsie, sell papes. Dere are worse tings out dere. Ise only offerin cause you looks like you need a steady job."

Not having a better option other than trusting the over-friendly boy, she agreed.

"Good" he smiled, his white teeth showing, "What's yer name?"

Skeeter paused, she didn't know what to say. She could have a new name here. A new name, a new beginning.

"Skeeter" she said, "My name is Skeeter"

The boy threw his head back and laughed,

"Good to hear, Skeeter! I'm Aces and this here is Racetrack. He's new too, just like you! Got heah coupla months ago. Maybe you guys will be best friends or sometink..." Aces babbled on while a small Italian boy stepped out from behind Aces. His brown, almond shaped eyes gazed over her.

Skeeter gazed back at him, challenging him to look down on her.

"Ya know how to play cards?" he said.

"Yeah" Skeeter replied.

Racetrack's eyes lit up and he smiled his gap toothed grin at her.

"let's go back to the lodging House" Aces said, dragging the two kids behind him. "You need to meet the gang! Let's see, there's Cowboy, and Crutchy, and Blink, and Mush, and Jake and..."

The three of them walked out from the dirty streets and into Skeeter's new home and new life.

* * *

><p>"Who are dey?" Skeeter asked Mush shyly.<p>

She pointed a small finger at the two burly boys who were yellin at Jack through the bars of the distribution office.

"Dose are Oscar and Morris Delancey. Real nasty guys. Stay away from dem, okay Skeeter?"

Skeeter nodded, wondering why she had to stay away from them.

She stepped up to get her papes, her first ever, and bought twenty.

"Youse gotta goil now, Jacky? You must really be desperate" Oscar sneered at Skeeter. "She's little too! Probably can't sell one pape let alone twenty!"

"Not as desperate as you are, pickin on a kid half yer size!" shouted Skeeter. "Now shaddup ya goons!"

She gave a final glare at the dumbstruck Delancey and ran back to Race who was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs.

"Stupid apes" she muttered, while a laughing Race stood beside her.

* * *

><p>"But why can't I come with you!" she yelled at Jack.<p>

"Because youse a goil!"

"Yeah, and yer a boy! What does it matter!" Skeeter's face was as red as her hair as she tried to keep her temper under control.

Jack sighed and ran his hand through his sandy hair.

"Skeeter youse is tough. We all knows dat. But Midtown doesn't, no otha borough knows eitha. You've neva been to dese meetings Skeeter, it ain't no place fer a goil, newsie or not! Granted dere are goils, but not da kind you should be around! So you can eida go with us and risk the status of Manhattan and yer personal safety, or you can stay here and be safe wid Crutchy fer company!"

"Fine!" Skeeter shouted. She turned around and ran back into the bunkroom, trying not to let her tears fall.

The door slammed open behind her,

"Go away Jack! Leave me alone!"

She turned around to yell at him only to find Race looking at her.

"I'd ratha stay heah wid you, Skeeter, than go to Midtown widout youse. Maybe we can teach Crutchy blackjack" he smiled his goofy Italian grin at her.

That was when Skeeter realized that Race was her best friend.


	13. Sleeping Giant Wakes

**Dedicated to all my friends and family and especially to**

**J.E. Magic, thanks for making me write ;)**

* * *

><p>Skeeter awoke with a start.<p>

She looked around room noticing that it was daytime now.

"Glad youse finally up!"

Skeeter looked in the corner at the source of the childish voice.

"Yeah! We thought you was going to sleep forever like one a does princesses that Specs talks about fore we goes to sleep!"

"Yeah, the one with the glass shoe or the long hair or the apple one!"

"Stupid, the apple was poison! You mean the 7 dwarves princess!"

Tinker and Tumbler ran from the corner where they had been sitting and jumped onto the bunk bed.

Skeeter smiled and tried to make room for the bouncing boys.

"I'm no princess Tum, and you know dat"

"You're a princess to us" murmured Tink, blushing.

Skeeter smiled at the bashful boy.

"What time is it?" she asked, suddenly realizing she might have slept for a long time

Tink picked at the holes in the bedspread and refused to answer.

"We can't tell time yet, Skeeter" Tum said, not as ashamed as Tinker.

"Well how many suns have risen since I've come back" Skeeter said forcefully, trying to get the boys to answer

Tumbler thought about it for a moment,

"About three suns."

"Yeah" Tinker piped, "Three suns. So it's been three days, right Skeeter?"

Mind racing, Skeeter forgot to answer Tinker.

_Three days! I've been unconscious for three days! Anything could have happened in that time! Not that I didn't trust Race and Jack, I trust them whole heartedly. But sometimes, like most newsboys, they let their pride and anger make their decisions rather than their common sense._

"Where are Jack and Race" she said, her voice cracking in an effort to not show the boys how concerned she was for what the newsboys have been doing while she was asleep.

"Skeeter it's daytime, they're out sellin! Don't you know that?" Tum said, giving her a confused look.

"Yeah but the pape bell has only rung once, a long time ago. They're probably eatin lunch now." Tink added

"Well then," said Skeeter as she swung her feet out of bed and onto the rough wooden floor, "Let's go find them!"


End file.
